


Out of Bounds

by scottxlogan



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Mild Language, Sexual Content, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-10
Updated: 2012-07-10
Packaged: 2017-11-09 13:17:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/455867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scottxlogan/pseuds/scottxlogan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Jean's death Scott finds himself drawn to Logan in ways he never imagined possible.  Once the two share a heated, passionate encounter Scott realizes he can no longer escape his dreams or the disastrous past that threatens to work it's way into his future once again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of Bounds

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place post X-2 for the most part. It is a bit of an AU spin throughout that was written for the [X-Men Reverse Bang](http://xmenreversebang.livejournal.com/) and inspired by sparrowshellcat's beautiful artwork which can be located by clicking [here ](http://sparrowshellcat.dreamwidth.org/76134.html).

_“There’s no reason to stay. There’s nothing in the world keeping you here. Deep down you know that. It’s not who you are…”_

A grunt filled the back of Logan’s throat when he closed his eyes and sighed in a futile attempt to ignore the warnings going off in his mind. He’d tried to ignore them, but they were too strong. They kept taunting him, trying to get him to return to the life that he had before arriving at the school. It was overwhelming causing a tension to crease in his brow when he took in a breath feeling anything, but relief with the words swirling around in his subconscious.

 _“You shouldn’t be here. It’s not where you’ve come from. Then again, where are you really from Logan? What kind of life have you left behind you? What does any of it mean?”_ the voices inside of Logan’s head were screaming again taking him from the simplicity of the morning he’d planned on his own to the reality that once again his plans had been thwarted by the others at the school…by the X-Men and more importantly by his overwhelming attraction to the last person he ever should’ve found himself longing for. 

“Stop,” he warned with a snarl under his breath. Uneasiness coiled over his body, causing him to see that he’d clearly been caged within himself for far too long. He wasn’t one for the existential bullshit that most others carried with them. He kept it simple. He just preferred it that way. Traveling from place to place and keeping to himself had become the norm in his time on the road. It was the way of life he’d grown accustomed to, so why should he suddenly want to change that now? Why should he give a damn about the things that he most certainly hadn’t believed in before now? Why should he stay?

“Because you made a promise to yourself, to them and to her,” Logan’s inner voice reminded him, taking him back to that day when Jeanie had died at Alkali Lake. She’d known the end was near, had sensed it before anyone realized what was happening. As she’d stepped outside of the jet to sacrifice herself it marked the beginning of the end of life as everyone had known it. Losing her had torn up the team causing each one of them to become immersed in their grief. That day they had been forced to move on in ways that they hadn’t imagined. Some were better at hiding it than others, but overall everyone knew what was weighing down on all of them. It was constantly hanging over them like a dark cloud, taking them under with each passing day.

“It’s too damn depressing around here,” Logan had overheard one of the students speaking out in between classes. He hadn’t intended to be listening, but after the words had been said, he couldn’t help, but agree. Life was no longer as it had been before Jean’s abrupt ending. He’d changed. The team changed. Everyone had and it felt as if the somber silence everyone was surrounding themselves with wasn’t about to turn things around. They all tiptoed around reality, never speaking of what happened, each avoiding it in their own way, refusing to deal with the problems and surprising truths that had followed Jean’s demise so much so that it had become suffocating. 

Death had always been a way of life for Logan, but losing Jeanie had been different. She was special in her own way. Sure, Logan had wanted her on some level. Hell, he’d pursued her for the sport of it, for the idea of driving her perfect, little, Boy Scout fiancé mad with jealousy. Pissing Scott off had been fun. It had been part of the thrill, but with her gone, it wasn’t the same. He’d run out of excuses to try to press Scott’s buttons. It was in that harsh reality that he’d found himself unable to hide from the truth. It surrounded them when Scott had collapsed in Logan’s arms, breaking down overtaken with anguished sobs against Logan’s chest. In those moments it took everything in Logan to fight his instincts, to keep Scott close to him without allowing everyone else to see what Logan had known since he’d arrived at the school. He’d felt it from day one when he’d shoved Scott around…had kept it buried inside of him, using Jean as a means of disguising what it would mean should Logan start being honest with himself. Jean was an easy way to keep it all under control. She’d grounded him—kept him from taking things too far, but with her gone Logan knew there was no more hiding from it. There was no ignoring the fact that he’d changed. Everything was different and the worst part was Logan felt soon everyone else would know it too. 

The changes may have started with Jean’s demise, but now everything was back where it had begun—back to the one thing that he couldn’t ignore with Scott. Despite everyone tiptoeing around the issue, deep down they all knew. They had to. Scott had also changed. That day he’d lost Jean had transformed him in ways no one dared speak of, but Logan knew the truth. He’d seen it right away even if the others had been content to simply sweep it underneath the carpet. Scott was no longer the hard assed, straight and narrow leader of the X-Men he’d once been. Instead of stoic and firm, he was somber, sullen and miserable in his private world of grief, hell bent on shutting the rest of the world out. Perhaps the others had acknowledged it on some level, but if they had they hadn’t said anything. They’d simply continued pushing on, existing with the overwhelming numbness each one of them carried from that day—from that moment they watched their fallen friend carried under in their darkest hour. Each one of them dealt with it in their own way, but Scott was falling through the cracks, clearly lost on a reckless collision course surrounded by survivor’s guilt and remorse. It had been taking him under, silently eating away at what remained in losing Jean, but no one had made an attempt to do anything about it.

“It’s not your place to save him,” Logan had heard the voice inside of his head remind him again and again. Maybe it was the voice of reason and conscience, or perhaps it was brought on by sheer insanity and longing for something Logan was certain he shouldn’t have had to begin with. Logan wasn’t quite sure given he’d never had any trouble with conscience before. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he’d had one for a very long time before they’d brought him back to the school. Then again, life before that time had been a series of blank moments and blurs, taking him from one random, nameless town with even more random, faceless people to the next, simply existing when it became clear that death merely wasn’t an option for someone like him.

“There’s nothing keeping you here,” another nagging voice had reminded him time and time again, but he hadn’t given in to it. Seeing the rapid decline of Scott Summers had been enough to motivate him to stay around—to keep waiting and watching wondering what would happen next. Initially Scott had lost himself, had given in to his grief completely, but for a brief while he seemed to have recovered. He’d started coming out of his and Jean’s bedroom, making his way around the school and attempting to return to his duties. It seemed as if Scott was also set on trying to push forward doing what was best for everyone else with the same stoic, muted attitude he’d carried with him before that fateful event at Alkali Lake. For a brief while Logan had almost thought Scott was coming around, but then something changed again.

Logan hadn’t been anticipating it when he tried to check in on Scott a few nights earlier. It had been something Logan had gotten accustomed to doing, to checking in on Scott and making sure he was alright even if Scott was loathsome in their encounters. Granted, they hadn’t fought like they once did when Jean was alive, but usually their encounters consisted of a grumble and a few well-placed insults. The jabs weren’t as brutal as they’d been before Jean’s passing, but they were still there serving as a reminder that perhaps Scott was still there on the inside with a part of him waiting to emerge again when everything took time to process. Each night they would engage in the brief, less than substantial conversation before Scott would make his rounds on the school grounds, seemingly checking in on the students. Logan knew better than to believe that was the case as he’d spent quite a few nights following Scott and watching him slip into the Danger Room. Most nights Scott wouldn’t exit until daybreak overcome with exhaustion when everyone else was still asleep. After that Scott would return to making his rounds across campus all the while evading sleep and any kind of contact with the others for the rest of the day. It became his ritual, one that Logan had silently observed from the shadows until a few nights earlier when Logan had decided that watching from a distance wasn’t enough. He needed some kind of validation, some kind of sign that Scott would be himself again. However, when Logan forced himself to break his pattern and enter into the Danger Room to make sure Scott was alright he was certain something changed. In being caught off guard Scott was immediately on edge and suddenly different again. 

“Get out of my way Logan!” Scott had snarled at him, his voice full of fury and rage after Logan had confronted him in the midst of a simulated battle in the Danger Room.

“I know what you’re doing Scott,” Logan had offered up in a sympathetic tone. It had been uncharacteristic for him to reveal his concern given their history with one another. He hadn’t intended on offering the sentiment, hadn’t thought about giving it any real emotion when he’d been seeking out Scott, but when he’d discovered Scott in the Danger Room beating the hell out of everything around him and tearing himself to pieces physically Logan knew what was happening. This had been Scott’s means of escaping the dreams each night. It was his own dark penance in an unspoken attempt at tearing himself to pieces over losing Jean. His anger and frustration consumed him, but most of all guilt had caused him to rip himself apart over and over again. Scott was still dying inside a little more each day and in spite of himself Logan knew he had to intervene. He’d approached Scott in the midst of his fury, catching Scott off guard in his rage. The result had ended in a scuffle, but what had followed was even more awkward between them. 

Reaching out to touch Scott’s arm, Logan’s fingers dug into Scott’s bicep, squeezing tightly into his muscled flesh before he had spoken up again in an attempt to get through to his one-time rival, “This isn’t what she would want Scott.”

“Don’t presume to tell me what you think she would want,” Scott had shoved Logan thus making it increasingly difficult to keep up with the conversation. It had shifted the dynamic, made things even more difficult when Logan had instinctively pushed back. The movement had sent Scott to the ground only further igniting his rage. A few seconds later a stunned Scott bounced up off of the floor, wiping at the sweat on his brow before furiously charging at Logan once again. 

Before Logan knew it he and Scott had been engaged in a fist fight, each throwing punches at one another, and building up in intensity until the sorrow and concern Logan felt had been replaced by a blinding fury. Both men tore at one another’s throats, exchanging violent blows until Logan had simply relented long enough to allow Scott the opportunity to unleash his fury. 

Knowing Scott’s anger was better than his tears, Logan continued to grapple with Scott until Scott had thrown Logan against a wall across the room, gearing up to charge upon him all over again. Scott’s fist plummeted into Logan’s abdomen, striking him with an intensity Logan hadn’t realized that Scott had possessed. The pain was momentary followed by another jab and a hit in a series of frantic, erratic patterns. At first it hadn’t made an impact on Logan with each blow Scott had delivered him, but soon Logan had grown tired of Scott’s blind fury. Instead of standing idle, Logan had reacted sending his fist into Scott’s jaw without hesitation. Scott recoiled with pain vibrating over his face, but with his teeth gritted Scott had charged at Logan again ready to deliver a far more brutal attack in their exchange. Soon after that their fight had escalated beyond sheer violence guiding them to rolling around on the floor, each man putting up a fight in the midst of an unspoken fury that neither could put into anything other than actions. The fight in itself expanded, growing increasingly heated, but Logan was prepared for it. He’d resumed in giving back just as good as he’d gotten from Scott, getting in a few frustrated jabs himself in the midst of Scott’s erratic kicks and punches, but what Logan hadn’t been prepared for was that moment when Scott had shifted the momentum between them somehow ending up over Logan and effectively caging Logan down on the floor beneath him. 

In that moment Logan realized that he could’ve very easily tossed Scott aside. He could’ve thrown Scott’s slender frame into the same wall they’d been fighting on moments earlier, but instead Logan had remained frozen, staying still when the heat of Scott’s erratic breath carried over his skin to reveal the truth igniting the way things had spiraled out of control between them. Scott’s lips parted in a half scowl, half pant when he hovered over Logan. His eyes, still hidden behind the visor, revealed nothing about his thoughts, but his mouth—his incredibly fascinating, uniquely erotic mouth that Logan had secretly contemplated time and time again before their exchange, was now revealing things that the stoic Scott Summers hadn’t been able to convey in their earlier interactions after their time together on the jet. Instead of a sneer or the sarcastic, agitated quips that usually fell from Scott’s lips after Logan’s goading, there had been something darker, something more primitive when Logan’s gaze honed in on Scott’s wild smirk, on the way Scott’s lips seemed to pulsate with life, with the blood that flowed through his veins when he leaned in closer to Logan. 

“I don’t need your sympathy Logan,” Scott had sneered, his voice full of contempt and venom when he dipped down in closer to Logan in warning, “I don’t want it and I’m not going to allow you to take pity on me.”

“It’s not pity that overrules my thoughts when you’re beside me Slim,” Logan had confessed when his words betrayed logic. Instead he’d found himself giving in to instinct when Scott leaned in closer to him. Desire pulsated through his veins, surrounding him with the scent of arousal and lust when Scott pushed his hands through Logan’s thick, unruly hair with a violent twist. His fingers commanded Logan’s complete attention, drawing forth that same authority that Scott had perfected in dishing out orders at being leader of the X-Men. 

Instead of responding, Scott grunted. He pushed his narrow hips in harder over Logan in an attempt to effectively cage Logan beneath him. His fingers twisted tighter tugging on Logan’s hair roughly. The movement caused Logan to arch his head back into the floor, exposing his neck to Scott. With his teeth gritted, Logan snarled feeling Scott lean forward, his labored breath crashing over the side of Logan’s neck. Scott’s lips were a mere fraction of an inch away from Logan’s skin, taunting and teasing when he spoke up in a tight hiss of a whisper.

“What do you want from me Logan?” Scott questioned wrenching Logan’s head back against the floor harder than before, “What is it you think you see here?”

“I see you,” Logan spat back at him, his wild eyes darting up towards Scott again when Scott pulled back ever so slightly, “the real you.”

“Do you?” Scott questioned when one of his hands dropped down over the front of Logan’s white, sleeveless t-shirt balling it up into his fist in a tight grip. His lips were curved downward in a scowl, angry and intense, wanting so much more than he could put to words when he squeezed the material between his fingers decidedly. 

“I always have,” Logan mouthed defiantly, not quite sure what was happening between them. His gaze returned to Scott’s visor, wishing like hell that he could look into the eyes that Scott kept hidden away from the rest of the world. Time and time again Logan wondered about their color, about what they looked like and what secrets they held beneath the surface. He’d found himself imagining their depths and what they might reveal had Scott’s mutation not prevented him from seeing the rest of the world as the others could, “You’re not as good at hiding it as you think you are Slim.”

“I’ve never tried to hide it,” Scott conceded with a determined tone. His voice revealed the first hint of something darker when Logan felt Scott’s hand push in harder against his chest. Behind Scott’s clenched jaw there was tension, a tightness that Logan couldn’t quite read behind Scott’s visor. There was something lingering on the verge of his lips, teasing over the tip of his tongue when desire and arousal carried over Scott’s scent, leaving no mistake about what he’d needed in their moments with one another. Their fight had been foreplay, but in their stillness on the Danger Room floor Logan knew only too well of the validation Scott had been seeking out from him with their exchange. 

Their breath intermingled causing their words to lose any meaning when Scott shifted over Logan making Logan increasingly aware of Scott’s firm musculature over his solid form. Time and time again Logan had seen Scott move through the mansion, a picture perfect vision of control and structure, but in having Scott over him, his body signaling Logan to the attraction Logan had fought to pretend hadn’t been present between them, Logan knew that there would be no turning back. That night would ultimately shift the dynamic in their rivalry, revealing far more than either had wanted to own up to before Logan had stepped into the Danger Room to check in on Scott. 

“Is that right?” Logan questioned when his oversized palms instinctively surrounded Scott’s hips, pressing and squeezing so hard that he felt Scot flinch over him. He’d half expected Scott to draw back, to punch Logan and wiggle out of Logan’s bruising hold on him, but instead Scott remained firm, stretched out over Logan’s body on the Danger Room floor. Scott’s fingers on one hand were still entrenched in Logan’s dark hair while his other hand continued to twist at Logan’s t-shirt in a tight fist before finally pushing up against Logan’s chest. The movement caused Logan to shift beneath Scott, overtaken by the scent of Scott’s desire matching his own. It had evolved into a hunger, into an overwhelming need to reach out and touch Scott when Scott began grinding in over him without hesitation.

“I’m not looking for your pity Logan,” Scott revealed when a harsh breath escaped his lips to draw emphasis to his sharp, sculpted cheek bones caught up in a moment of determination. His lips had parted, mouth overtaken with another shallow breath when Logan’s fingers curved around Scott’s bottom, kneading and squeezing at his firm flesh without fear of Scott recoiling away from the touch. In encouraged Scott to inch in closer to Logan in bringing that sinfully sculpted mouth in closer for another teasing rush of breath. 

“I don’t pity you Slim. Never felt the need when I’m around you, but what I do think about,” Logan paused gulping down when his fingers constricted around Scott’s body, pulling him in closer when he spoke up in a ravenous whisper, “it’s not pure hatred either.”

“I know,” Scott had simply replied refusing to say anything more on the matter when he sank his teeth into the side of Logan’s neck in a predatory nip. The excruciating sensation caused Logan to arch his head back further, taking in the feel of Scott’s mouth over him, attempting to claim dominance between them when Logan squeezed Scott harder against him. 

Logan twisted at the brush of Scott’s tongue over his throat drawing a hot, wet trail over Logan’s neck. Logan groaned, closing his eyes and exhaling sharply when he felt Scott draw back almost as fast as he’d pushed forward to taste Logan. Logan’s eyes snapped open just in time to see the wild desire crashing over Scott’s features, the recklessness that Scott had fought to contain right before their lips collided in yet another battle for dominance between them. Only unlike before their battle hadn’t involved fists and fury, but lips, tongues and teeth in combination with low grunts, growls and teasing bites. 

Anger had given way to instinct, to passion and hunger when they’d torn at one another’s clothing, ripping one another to pieces without a care about time or circumstance. Both had been overruled by need, by a thirst for a connection that went well beyond sorrow and Jean’s memory. It had started as a means of unleashing their frustrations, of letting go of that unspoken numbness they’d been holding onto, but it all changed when Logan’s claws had revealed themselves in managing to slash Scott’s uniform from his body. At first he’d anticipated Scott’s retreat, but Scott returned the favor working to strip Logan down to nothing when they’d rolled around on the Danger Room floor caught up in a whirlwind of erotic tastes, tangling limbs and the raw heat of skin to skin contact between them. 

It transformed into something far more urgent than a fleeting desire when Scott had tempted, touched and teased him in ways Logan hadn’t dared to admit he’d longed for. Their tongues and teeth collided, hands exploring places that neither would dare admit to craving around the others. Instead they’d torn down each other’s defenses, primitive and out of control when he and Scott had pounded the hell out of one another on the Danger Room floor. What began as a violent attack of fury had transformed into a raging, wild quest for release brought on by something neither had been brave enough to admit to when Jean was still around. Instead in her passing and the time that followed they’d fought against it. They been resistant acknowledge it after the moment on the jet when they’d unsuccessfully tried to bury it. They’d both tried to avoid the other, to pretend that it wasn’t lingering between them until finally neither had a choice in the matter. 

That night had changed everything. It had caused Logan to second guess everything in knowing he’d taken Scott Summers in every way imaginable without hesitation, without reservations about what he’d been allowing to happen. Scott had initiated it with the fight and the sex that followed while Logan had simply sat back enjoying the experience from start to finish in exploring every irresistible, naked inch of Scott Summers until they’d both been overtaken by exhaustion. They’d collapsed to the ground with Scott in Logan’s arms, weightless against Logan’s chest until Scott had pulled away, refusing to discuss the matter of what had taken place between them.

“I don’t want your pity Logan,” Scott had simply stated, returning to his earlier demand. His voice revealing nothing further when he pulled himself up off of the floor, collecting what little was left of his clothing before he’d exited the Danger Room as if nothing had transpired between the both of them. Then again at the time Logan hadn’t questioned it. He hadn’t made any attempt to go after Scott, to try to put any thought to the matter beyond the fact that it was a long overdue physical release that they’d both needed—that they’d both offered to one another without any consequence. Scott had given him a taste of temptation and Logan greedily accepted, using the moment to his advantage in devouring Scott Summers completely.

After that night it should’ve been enough to make Logan’s interest taper off, to make him want to put any kind of thoughts of Scott out of his mind. However, as the days passed, it had the opposite effect on Logan, leading him to fantasize about Scott—to find ways to approach him around the others, but each and every time Logan had hesitated. When he and Scott were in the same room, they hadn’t looked at one another let alone exchanged a word about their new circumstances. It was as if the night hadn’t taken place—as if Scott had pushed their frantic sexual encounter out of his mind and rightfully out of his position at the school in dealing with the others. In their brief exchanges Scott and Logan were still at odds with one another, still avoiding the other in social circles and after hours. If Logan hadn’t known better, he would’ve guessed that it hadn’t happened. He would’ve imagined it was a fantasy, but his fantasies had paled in comparison to that night with Scott. It should have been enough to make the curious craving pass, but instead it had awakened Logan’s primitive side. One night with Scott Summers unleashed Logan’s raw, animalistic hunger and he’d found that he’d no longer be satisfied with just a taste. He wanted Scott completely. He needed to consume him, to have him in ways that neither would openly be willing to give. 

It was all so overwhelming after that night…so much so that Logan had made a decision. He was going to leave. He had to get away from it all. He wasn’t a part of the team, wasn’t the kind of man who stuck around and tried to work it out when things got tough with the world around him. He was a loner, a drifter who simply dealt with his problems in the most effective way before taking off. It was all he’d known. It was his life before that night with Scott. It was what he was used to, yet in having a taste of Scott Summers he knew what it would do to him in having to pretend day in and day out. It would consume him, overrule his logic with the one ache that wouldn’t heal itself in the long run and he couldn’t allow himself to be there any longer. He had to escape—had to run from it before it took him under. At least that had been the plan…

Closing his eyes Logan thought back to the walk he’d made from his bedroom to the Professor’s office earlier in the day. He’d prepared to inform Xavier of his impending departure, to tell him that things weren’t working out especially with Logan’s past still shrouded with mystery after Stryker’s demise, but before he had the chance Logan overheard Charles and Ororo discussing the upcoming field trip. It should’ve been inconsequential to Logan’s decision to leave the X-Men behind. It shouldn’t have been a deciding factor in what had happened next, but when Charles had revealed his concern to Ororo about Scott’s stability, citing that he didn’t feel Scott would have the capability to be there for the children given that Scott had returned to sulking and being reclusive over the last few days again, Logan had found himself stepping in. 

Against his instincts Logan had volunteered for the trip, doing his part as an unofficial staff member at the school to be what everyone needed. Charles had been hesitant to put that kind of pressure on Logan given the nature of the trip, but Logan had been persistent, going on about how he’d gained an appreciation of the arts over the years in saying that he was the man for the job and how he would gladly help Ororo if anyone got out of line on the trip. That in itself seemed to put Charles and his worries at ease for the time being when Ororo had agreed that Logan would be great to have around. Satisfied, Charles had agreed to Logan chaperoning. 

It was a small victory, one that Logan hadn’t been aware he’d been so interested in experiencing when he’s set out to leave the school behind him. Of course his motivation wasn’t purely altruistic when he’d sensed Scott outside of Xavier’s office. He could smell Scott a mile away as he’d grown accustomed to Scott’s alluring scent. It was something that Logan couldn’t avoid especially after he’d experienced a taste of Scott a few nights earlier. It was so deeply embedded in his system that when he was certain Scott had overheard his conversation with Xavier, he couldn’t help, but react with the same self-satisfied, competitive tone he’d carried with him around Scott.

“Of course I’ll do for you what Summers can’t,” Logan had replied smugly, hoping the words would be enough to bait Scott into rethinking his decision to lock himself away from the rest of the school. The field trip might’ve not been a priority on Scott’s list for the day, but when Xavier chastised Logan’s lack of sympathy for Scott’s condition, Logan knew full well that Scott would change his plans. Even in wanting to avoid Logan, Scott would find a way to be at the museum one way or the other somehow if for no other reason than to upstage Logan as he would’ve done in the past. 

Logan was banking on it and was pleasantly rewarded when they’d loaded the children onto the bus taking them out to the museum. Everyone was packed up and ready to go when Scott had stepped onto the bus at the last minute quickly taking a seat up front near Ororo and the other staff members right before they departed. He hadn’t said a word to Logan, hadn’t bothered to look back at him, but rather sat still in his seat with his head faced forward, eyes still hidden behind his ruby colored glasses. His jaw was deep set and neutral revealing nothing about his thoughts or feelings in the moment, but his scent gave him away as it had each time he and Logan were in the same place with one another. He was feeling it too in thinking about Logan. He’d been consumed by that night as well.

“Good,” Logan had thought to himself in realizing there was still an opening for him. Perhaps Scott wasn’t as untouchable as he’d seemed after he’d fled from the Danger Room that night.

xxxxx

“Damn him,” Scott cursed to himself, thinking about the fact that he couldn’t possibly keep his head together with Logan a mere five feet away from him watching him like a hawk. Granted Scott had kept his face forward, pretending not to notice the way that Logan was watching him, eyeing him like a predator ready to pounce in on his latest prey. It was overwhelming, causing Scott to lose sight of the reason why he’d agreed to chaperone on the trip. This was for the children—for all those who had been affected by the changes at the school after Jean’s passing, not for him and Logan to be playing yet another game of cat and mouse with one another.

“Stop it Logan!” Scott thought to himself wishing like hell Logan would pick up on his not-so-subtle clues about wanting to be left alone. Time and time again, Scott had wished for it, wanting Logan to simply leave well enough alone, but based on the way that Logan was watching him, sizing him up, Scott was certain whatever was happening between them wasn’t going to be dismissed as readily as he’d anticipated after their romp in the Danger Room with one another. 

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Ororo had roused Scott from his thoughts, drawing his attention away from Logan long enough to try to simply focus on why they were at the museum, “I wasn’t sure if you were going to join us today considering that…”

“Of course I would join you,” Scott answered stiffly, fighting to keep his voice under control with the same stoic tone he carried with him to anyone brave enough to ask how he was doing, “I wouldn’t let Jean down by staying away. She took the time to organize this trip, so the least I can do is honor her memory by showing the students what she wanted them to see.”

“It would mean a lot to her in knowing you were here Scott,” Ororo reached out to touch his arm in an uncharacteristic tone, consoling him with the same pity that everyone else at the mansion met him with day in and day out. It was bad enough that Scott had lost her, that he’d been forced to say goodbye to her without warning, yet to have that encounter the same feelings of grief time and time again when he encountered those around him, it was overwhelming, far too much to bear as he’d tried to move forward with what little life he had left. Looking down, he felt Ororo’s fingers squeeze supportively into his arm, “We all want to see you get through this.”

“Get through this?” Scott repeated unable to hold back on the sarcasm that found its way beyond his lips before he could censor himself, “it’s not as if I failed in a simulation or botched a job interview. We lost Jean. Something like that doesn’t go away.”

“I wasn’t trying to imply it did, but…” she blinked back at him apologetically, a genuine concern behind her eyes when he sidestepped around her. 

“I’m going to go check on the group that drifted off to the cafeteria,” Scott answered stiffly, refusing to give weight to their conversation when he pulled out of her grasp, “A few of them have been gone for a while and we wouldn’t want them getting into any trouble.”

“Scott…” he heard Ororo call out to him. He had to give her credit. She was trying. She was doing what she always did in trying to be supportive, but right now supportive wasn’t what he needed. It wasn’t going to make the guilt ease up or the pain any less consuming especially after Scott had taken the liberty to tarnish his romance with Jean in the worst possible way by giving in to instinct with Logan.

“What were you thinking?” a voice inside of his head had condemned him time and time again, taking him from his misery to something even worse when he thought of how easily he’d given in to instinct. That night in the Danger Room he’d been trying to fight it, trying to hold off on the dreams that had consumed him when everyone else had gone to sleep. At first they’d been all consuming and horrible, caught up in a suffocating display of water and madness when his mind took him back to Jean’s final moments. He could feel the weight of the icy water upon her, could sense the crushing movements, squeezing the breath from her lungs time and time again when he woke up with night sweats. They’d haunted him, made him feel as if he was forever condemned to madness until that one night when the water was replaced by something altogether different. Jean was soon replaced by thoughts of Logan, by detailed images of a life with a man he was certain he shouldn’t have surround his subconscious.

When the dream had filled Scott’s mind the first time, he’d been caught off guard, finding him in a place where life was far different than it had been at the school. He was somewhere else living in a place where his powers hadn’t consumed him. He saw the world in the same hues that were forbidden in his life after his powers had arrived. There were rich greens, deep shades of blue in the sky and warm rays of sunshine that surrounded him when he realized he was in a meadow. He was surrounded by green grass and flowers, by the sounds of bees buzzing, each one lost in their own task when Scott had walked further into the dense forest of trees ahead of him. There was a house behind him, a plantation of sorts that held no significance to him in the waking hours, but in the dream it felt familiar. It felt like home. Each night the visions would grow clearer. They would become a part of him, as if he was reliving a scene from his past, from a life he simply couldn’t have lead. Every night in the dream he took the walk through the trees and tried to clear his mind until he wound up at a large stable.

“I’d hoped that I hadn’t read this wrong and you would take me up on my offer,” a voice inside of his dream would say to him time and time again. 

Each time Scott had followed the sound, turning towards the source, he’d awakened drenched in perspiration and out of breath, knowing that something awful was about to happen. He couldn’t place it, but even with that voice it seemed that tension was in the air. For three weeks he’d experienced the same dream, taking the long walk out to the stables only to hear the voice call out to him. Each night he’d struggled with the sound, attempting to place it until finally he was able to turn around and face the man speaking to him.

“Logan,” he gasped when his eyes cast over the man before him, seeing him dressed in a white pleated shirt and neatly pressed slacks, looking as if he belonged in some kind of regal place far from the woods they were surrounded in. He could remember taking a step forward, sensing the uneasiness in Logan’s eyes when Logan had reached out to touch the side of his arm.

“Did anyone follow you out here?” Logan lowered his voice, his eyes searching the field when sunlight faded to shadows.

“You already know they haven’t,” Scott had reached out to touch the side of Logan’s face, caressing the course, dark hair over his jawline, “You would’ve sensed it if they had known.”

“It isn’t safe for you to be here,” Logan had pulled Scott into his arms, embracing him readily, without hesitation or restraint when Scott had placed his hand into the center of Logan’s chest.

“They couldn’t keep me away from you,” Scott had insisted in an impassioned tone, “They’ve taken everything else from me, but I refuse to allow them the luxury of forbidding this as well. I won’t leave without you.”

“You know it won’t be simple,” Logan’s brow creased with worry, “If they had any idea that we were together…that you and I were…”

“Lovers?” Scott had tossed back at him with carelessness in the dream that had felt foreign to the life Scott had surrounded himself by with the X-Men, “I don’t care. You have my heart. You are where I was always meant to be and may any be damned who dares to challenge my sentiment over what we have together.”

“You don’t know what you’re bringing upon yourself. If you had any idea of what I am—of what I’m capable of,” Logan’s face was tight with tension, creased with a worry that he’d burdened himself with for years.

“I’ve seen your darkness and you’re well aware of mine. I’m not afraid of this or of being with you when it’s all I could ever want and need in my life. I want to be with you Logan. Now and forever,” Scott had promised wrapping his arms around Logan’s shoulders and kissing him in ways that Scott had reserved for Jean alone. In the dream, Jean hadn’t been a part of that reality, hadn’t been a real consequence to his actions when his mind was filled with the same conversation time and time again. 

Each night the dream would escalate until finally he and Logan were inside the stables, making love to one another as if the time together could be their last. Unlike what had happened in the Danger Room, the dream was more intense, more desperate, attached to a sentiment that went beyond lust and instinct. Scott could recall the tastes, the sensations, the way it felt so very right to have Logan with him that when Scott had finally awakened night after night, it forced him to face the fact that he was no longer able to hide from the fact that he’d been attracted to Logan. He’d known it from the start. Jean had known it too. Hell, she’d been intrigued by it the first time Scott had allowed his sexual fantasies of Logan to slip into their time together. It had surprised her, but she had encouraged it, suggesting to Scott that he consider what it was about Logan that had excited him. At first he’d been embarrassed by the feelings, had hated himself for daring to think about a man like Logan when he had the most incredible woman in the world at his side, yet the longer Jean had indulged his hidden fantasies, the more he’d found himself giving weight to their meaning. It became overwhelming, almost too much to handle when Logan had returned to the school, shamelessly flirting with Scott in front of Jean. 

At the time Scott had wondered if Jean had betrayed him, if somehow she’d revealed Scott’s fantasies to Logan, but after her death, Scott had realized that hadn’t been the case. She hadn’t shared his innermost thoughts with Logan, yet in having her gone, he found himself more confused than ever. The dreams had escalated, his thoughts feeling more real when he was around Logan, driving him to madness until finally he fought against sleep. Instead he’d spent his time in the Danger Room each night, beating himself to exhaustion in the hopes that the dreams wouldn’t follow. It had worked briefly, that is until Logan had cornered him leaving him no choice, but to react.

“That’s one way of putting it mildly,” Scott mouthed to himself knowing only too well that he’d behaved like a fool, like an out of control, reckless teenager. He’d given in to hunger and instinct, bypassing logic and restraint, which were the two things Scott had prided himself on having. If anything control was the one thing in Scott’s life he fought desperately to hold onto. However, being around Logan had made it damn near impossible and in one night, Scott had given himself completely to temptation. Having Logan over him, around him and touching him in ways he couldn’t share with Jean, Scott had found himself met by a new hunger, by an overwhelming need to be consumed by Logan. It felt right—impossibly perfect when they were together giving in to instinct and lust. 

When it was over Scott had felt uneasy, lost inside of emotions he didn’t want to be feeling. Scott suspected that his sudden wave of sentimentality was undoubtedly brought on by memories of the man in his dreams—of the way that they’d been together in Scott’s subconscious, but in reality with Logan, he knew better than to hold out for something more between them. Nothing good could come out of it. There was no future for them. Scott knew that. He was aware that it was foolish to even indulge the notion that there was something more than what it was, so before Logan could humiliate him for giving in, Scott reacted. He’d pushed himself away, pretended that it meant nothing and avoided Logan like crazy. It would be the only way to survive—to keep his feelings under wraps before they did him in. That was until today with Logan’s eyes penetrating him, touching him in ways that Logan’s hands had done a few nights earlier. 

Pausing momentarily, Scott stood in the doorway preparing to head down to the cafeteria when he spotted Logan still leaning up against the wall watching him. It was as if he was waiting for Scott to say something, to do something that would ultimately change the outcome, but Scott knew better. There were some things in life that simply shouldn’t come into fruition. His night with Logan had been one of them. Even with the wild, confusing dreams, he was certain they had no future. They could never be what either one needed. It was impossible.

“I’m sorry,” Scott had found himself saying in his head time and time again, wishing that Logan had Jean’s telepathic abilities so that he would know that Scott wanted things to be different, but that wasn’t possible. Instead all Logan could sense was the desire and need that Scott couldn’t possibly offer him. The lust simply wasn’t a part of their future, wasn’t who Scott was supposed to be, yet with Logan so close, keeping his eyes on him, Scott knew he couldn’t hide from his thoughts any longer. He needed some air.

“Don’t follow me Logan,” Scott had mouthed to himself watching when Logan’s eyes honed in on him harder than before. Logan’s lips parted, his tongue revealing itself in an involuntary sweep over his bottom lip before Scott turned away, forcing himself to leave before he gave himself away in the moment.

“You’re here for the children,” Scott reminded himself when he noticed a shadow around the corner. He raised his head up sensing movement and feeling as if something wasn’t right when he stepped away from the group. Moving forward, he followed the movement, immediately on edge when he searched the room for the students. They all appeared to be admiring the paintings on the wall, each one commenting on what they saw, some more enthused than others. With each step Scott took away from the crowd, he felt something troubling him, something that he couldn’t quite place when there was another rush of movement behind one of the exhibits.

“Mr. Summers, is everything alright?” Jubilee questioned from where she’d been standing beside him with a few other students, gossiping about a barnyard piece on the wall before them.

“It’s fine. Just stay here,” Scott explained hurriedly when his instincts began to tell him that danger was around them. Although he wasn’t sure what had prompted the feeling, he knew something had changed—something was horribly wrong when he looked to the dark, secluded area of the museum, “See to it that the other students do the same as well.”

“That part of the exhibit is closed off for renovations,” Jubilee announced when Scott moved forward, his eyes following the lines of shadows dancing across the wall into the darkness beyond the public part of the gallery.

“It’s alright. Just stay back with the others. Everything will be okay,” Scott spoke more so to himself than anything when he pushed past the rope closing the area off. Looking down on the ground, he noticed broken glass and a trail of dirt, indicating that someone was there that shouldn’t have been before him. There was a musky odor in the air, the scent of blood and death—something that Scott had seen more times than he’d cared to admit in battle. Thinking about the students behind him who had been oblivious to danger while enjoying their field trip, he found himself increasingly on edge. Whatever danger was to follow, it was something that he would have to keep the students from, to protect them at all costs when he stood up taller, placing his hand on the side of his glasses and thinking about what he might discover.

“Go back and get the others,” a voice inside the back of his mind instructed, but Scott knew it was too late for that. Hesitation would undoubtedly lead to an unsavory outcome. It would allow the perpetrator to get away, lost in the darkness forever if he turned back. Right now was about keeping the students safe and restoring order.

“Don’t do this,” Scott could hear a voice inside of his head urging him to seek out Storm and Logan, “Don’t go in there. You know what will happen if you go on your own…”

“I can’t walk away,” Scott could hear himself impossibly arguing, fighting with the phantom voices in his head. He pressed forward, moving in around a long, narrow hallway and corners that lead to an even darker room. With each step he made, he felt uneasiness overtake him, bristling over his body when tension knotted in his shoulders. He listened to the sound of his footsteps echoing in the room around him all the while wondering if the person he’d sought out was waiting and watching, calculating their perfect moment to attack. Still holding the frame of his glasses, Scott found himself wishing he would’ve brought his visor. With it he would’ve been better prepared, more ready to do what was necessary with minimal damage, but now, well now he would have to make do with what was available to him. Silently, his eyes surveyed the perimeter from behind his glasses when he was met by a crashing sound to his left. Spinning around, he stood up taller attempting to seek out the source of the damage when there was a distinct scratching sound against the wall beside him. Through the darkness, he saw things in a haze of red, distorted by the thick, blackness in the lightless back room. It seemed as if the area in the museum had been empty for so long it lost any sense of purpose with box after box piled up on both sides of him. Moving through the forgotten, discarded exhibits, Scott looked around once again, hoping to find a sign of what he’d been chasing. However, much like before he was met by silence again.

“Something isn’t right here,” he mouthed to himself, still unconvinced that the danger had been imaginary. There was something in the air, the stale scent of blood and fear when Scott took another step towards the end of the long corridor. Through the darkness there was a tiny flash of light, revealing itself through the crack in the partially opened door. He paused for a moment, glancing down at the floor to see the smeared, red line against the marble flooring. Even with his glasses, there was no mistaking it what it was when Scott noticed a hand pushed out past the opening in the door. One finger was gnarled beyond recognition, the other snapped to a distorted position pointing towards the opposite wall.

“Damn it!” Scott cursed rushing forward to take a glimpse of what was behind the door. Hurriedly Scott approached the hand, not sure what was to follow when he heard a sound behind him. Springing up, Scott spun around preparing to use his powers to subdue the intruder when a quick, flash of light surrounded him. Immediately he found himself blinded, flinching when a gust of wind carried down upon him. He raised his hand up, attempting to keep his glasses in place when he was distracted by a single painting that hung up on the wall underneath a lighted display.

“What the…?” he gasped moving in closer finding himself momentarily distracted in wondering if his eyes had betrayed him when an overwhelming sense of familiarity carried over him. He blinked a few times unwilling to believe what he was seeing had been possible when he stretched his hand out before him. Thoughtlessly he reached out to touch the frame of the oil painting, stretching his fingers when another crashing sound surrounded him. Remembering his reason for venturing into the area, Scott spun around catching the first hint of movement behind him. He felt another gust of wind when there was heaviness in the air around him lunging forward and leaving him no time to deal with the threat. He reached for his glasses, preparing to tear them off of his face, but instead he felt the distinct slam of force into his chest, sending him crashing across the room onto the floor. The wind escaped from his lungs, stealing the oxygen from him when he attempted to pull himself up, to fight back, but another violent burst of energy threw him down to the ground causing him to hit his head harder than he knew he should have. A groan carried over his lips, his head growing increasingly painful when he strained to pull himself up.

“Did you really think that I’d let you get away with destroying him all over again?” the voice snarled, reaching for Scott’s modest button down shirt, pulling him up off of the ground to face his attacker, “I’d rather you die instead.”

“You won’t get away with this you son of a…” Scott’s words were a feeble attempt at fighting back, a halfhearted attempt at sounding strong when a fist impacted the side of his face sending him onto the ground again surrounded by darkness.

xxxxx

“He’s waking up,” Scott heard a voice call out from the back of his mind, pulling him from the darkness into the warmth of the bed beneath him. He felt a groan overtake him, his head aching when he shifted on the pillow, straining to remember what had happened before he’d passed out.

“Thank God,” he heard someone else say before there was a shuffling sound beyond the bed, indicating someone was at the door.

“I can handle things from here,” another gruff voice added when Scott found himself met by sudden awareness.

“Logan,” he thought to himself realizing that the bed he was in felt unfamiliar. Reaching out across the blankets, Scott realized the sheets felt different, their texture was rough, almost abrasive when Scott let out a small groan. He turned his head to the side, realizing that he was no longer in his glasses or visor. That thought in itself was unsettling when the sound of the other voices Scott hadn’t recognized grew muffled. He heard the shuffling of tentative footsteps sounding further away only to be replaced by other bolder, more profound movements that could only mean one thing. Logan was moving in closer to him.

“You okay Slim?” Scott heard Logan question with an uneasiness in his voice. There was concern Logan’s tone that was laced with something that went beyond what Scott was used to. Logan’s voice was softer, revealing a worry that he hadn’t carried with him in their day to day encounters.

“I’m fine,” Scott stiffened attempting to control his voice. He shifted on the blanket again, feeling a weight dip down upon the mattress beside where he lay. Immediately Scott’s pulse quickened, his thoughts returning to what it had been like in the Danger Room with Logan a few nights earlier, giving in to temptation again and again. The thought in itself caused Scott to clear his throat and turn away, “It’s nothing a little bit of distance and space won’t cure.”

“What?” Logan questioned as Scott let out a long, uneasy sigh.

“Nothing,” Scott muttered under his breath. He brought one arm around his chest and twisted away from the sound of Logan’s voice in an attempt to keep his thoughts from revealing themselves to Logan in his quiet contemplation.

“For a minute there I thought I’d dealt you some real damage,” Logan responded with a breath of relief carrying over his tone, “I know you said that you were ready to take things to the next level, but I can see now it was too much, too fast.”

“That’s the understatement of the year,” Scott thought to himself before taking in a breath, “Really Logan I’m fine.”

“You sure as hell don’t look fine,” Logan reached out to touch Scott’s shoulder. The movement caused Scott to tense up, fighting to stay in control of his thoughts.

“I am,” Scott’s jaw flexed with tension, “Look it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Of course I’m going to worry about you especially when it’s my fault you’re in this position to begin with,” Logan’s voice fell to a whisper when he slid his fingers down over Scott’s arm, “I wasn’t trying to put too much pressure on you after our talk today. That wasn’t my intention.” 

“What talk?” Scott replied turning towards the sound of Logan’s voice, “What do you mean?”

“When you said you wanted to engage in combat training, I had just assumed you were prepared for my counterattack. I know you said that what happened the other day didn’t have any lasting effect on you, but I wasn’t planning on you being subdued that readily. I promised myself I would hold back, but…” Logan added apologetically.

“I can take anything you can dish out at me Logan. You should know that by now,” Scott stiffened at the way Logan’s hand was still upon him creating a sensation that Scott was less than comfortable with.

“It was still too much for combat training,” Logan maintained, “Even if you think you can take me on, there are limitations I know I need to put upon myself.”

“Why do you keep talking about combat training?” Scott frowned, feeling an ache in his temple, “Logan, we were at the museum and…”

“What museum?” Logan questioned worriedly.

“The one with the students…” Scott began again when confusion carried over him.

“What students? You and I were alone together when the accident took place. You asked me to engage in combat training with you when…” Logan answered simply when Scott reached out across the bed to pull himself up to a seated position.

“Where are my glasses?” Scott asked impatiently when he stretched his fingers out across the bed.

“What glasses?” Logan replied as if Scott had asked him to do the impossible.

“You know what glasses,” Scott frowned back at him. The ache in his temple continued, pulsating furiously and spreading out through the top of his head when he felt Logan’s hand skim up against the side of his face. Immediately he stopped fidgeting instead holding his breath in a state of uneasiness.

“Slim, it’s okay,” Logan lowered his voice barely above a whisper, “We’re alone. You can open your eyes.”

“Not without my glasses I can’t. You know as well as I do that…” Scott felt Logan’s fingers taper off into his hair. Immediately he stiffened thinking about all that had taken place between him and Logan a few nights earlier, “Logan, I don’t think that you should be…that we should be…”

“I was so worried about you especially when I thought that Victor had found out about us,” Logan’s voice was shaky, uncharacteristically devoid of his usual smugness when he cupped Scott’s face in his hands, “I told you that he was out there—that it was only a matter of time before he made his way to where we are. That’s why I wanted you to be prepared. That’s why you were so insistent on the training today…”

“Victor,” Scott repeated when Logan brushed his thumbs over Scott’s cheekbones, pressing into his hair. Scott felt Logan’s breath carry over him, his mind taking him to places he was certain he shouldn’t be going. He opened his mouth to say something more, to question Logan’s strange behavior when he felt the first brush of Logan’s lips over his in a kiss. 

At first Scott was tempted to withdraw from the kiss, to pull away, but he found himself distracted by the softness of Logan’s full lips. While most would undoubtedly anticipate a rough, impulsiveness in Logan when it came to kissing, Scott had learned that Logan was surprisingly restrained when the moment called upon him, dedicated to drawing out response after pleasurable response as Logan held Scott closer to him. Instinctively Scott reached out sliding his arms around Logan’s shoulders. Logan’s arm slid around Scott’s waist, coaxing Scott down onto the blankets beneath him. Scott fell back readily, sliding his legs apart to invite Logan over him when suddenly everything felt wrong…different from the way things had been the night in the Danger Room.

“Logan wait,” Scott’s blurted out taking a risk when his eyes snapped open without hesitation, bringing a blinding light in over him. He flinched, cringing as he twisted on the sheet, struggling to keep himself from closing his eyes when awareness surrounded him. Sunlight filtered into the room, bringing a warmth and vivid color to the world around him. He could see the thick, hand crafted, wooden furniture at his side right beside the window. It revealed the blue sky and flourishing green trees beyond where Scott lay on the crisp, white sheets beneath him. Twisting again, Scott felt Logan’s weight over him, serving as an indicator that he something wasn’t right. He had to be dreaming again in going through the same motions that had haunted his subconscious for night on end over the last few weeks.

“What’s wrong Slim?” Logan questioned worriedly, his intense eyes searching Scott’s again for any sign of residual injuries brought on by their sparring with one another.

“You’re not as heavy as you normally are,” Scott blurted out thoughtlessly, “What I mean is that you can lay over me and I don’t feel like I’m suffocating.”

“Why would you be suffocating?” Logan wrinkled his nose at him. He pulled back, twisting onto the tiny bed beside him. Reaching out to touch the side of Scott’s face, worry creased over his brow, “Is it because of what we discussed before at the stables?”

“The stables,” Scott repeated when flashes of fire and devastation entered into his mind.

“That’s right,” Logan nodded in an attempt to prod Scott into remembering, “We were training there earlier working to improve your technique before you go into battle and…”

“Where are we now?” Scott asked with a jolt. His eyes returned to Logan’s features, seeing the way Logan was watching him closely before Scott wearily pulled away from Logan, “What is this place?”

“I really did hit you too hard, didn’t I?” Logan questioned reaching out to touch Scott’s forehead, “You don’t feel like you have a bump though.”

“Where are we Logan?” Scott questioned pushing Logan away with a huff. He threw his legs over the side of the bed, attempting to stand up with shaky knees. 

Looking down Scott noticed he was wearing a pair of cream colored slacks with an oversized, white, button down shirt opened halfway down his chest, revealing far more skin than Scott would’ve normally done in the waking hours. The long sleeves were fitted around his wrists, but the arms in itself were oversized, better suited for another man twice his size just as it been each and every night in his dreams. Everything in the room had been as it had been when he’d first experienced the dream, only this time everything was more vivid, more real when he took a step forward on the creaking wooden floor beneath him. He looked down to see the heavy, black boots on his feet, carrying more weight than he’d imagined when he took another step across the room. He cast his eyes over to the window again, thinking about the combination of blue and green, so beautiful, yet so foreign to his life after his powers had consumed him. It was something he thought he’d never see again, something he’d never be able to experience, yet when he walked over to the window, he couldn’t help, but be taken in by it. Reaching out to touch the glass, he found himself admiring the world in ways that life had prevented him from doing so. Running his fingertips over the cool panel before him, Scott fought to imprint every, single second of the skyline to his memory, to take it with him when the dream ended and he was no longer able to see the world through this view. He’d given up on the idea of it before his dreams, but now they taunted him, teased him in causing him to remember what life was like before his powers emerged.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” Logan’s voice broke through his thoughts, attempting to pull him back into the moment they were sharing, “What’s going on?”

“I just forgot how beautiful this could all be,” Scott let out an ironic laugh, “When you lose sight of it, you start to force yourself to believe that it wasn’t real—that it wasn’t something you miss, but it hurts like hell to think about all the things that escape you.”

“Slim?” Logan questioned with an uncertainty in his tone.

“First I lose this, then her and now I’m losing my mind. It’s like everything about me is saying that I’m…” Scott’s words tapered off. He thought about his dreams, about the life that he’d lost when Jean sacrificed herself to save the team. She’d shown them all what true dedication to the greater good was that day, yet in her leaving Scott behind, it made him feel empty, lost until he’d given in to his lust for Logan. It was something he’d promised himself that he would never act upon as long as Jean was around, but with her gone…

“What’s really going on?” Logan asked when Scott heard the sound of footsteps behind him.

“I’ve just been thinking a lot,” Scott divulged in an uncharacteristic moment of honesty, “I’ve felt so lost for so very long. Everything just seemed so wrong, so far from where they should be until…”

“Until what?” Logan questioned as Scott forced himself to turn around and discover Logan standing behind him. His jaw was tight with tension, his brow creased with concern as Scott fought his urge to reach out and touch Logan in spite of himself.

“Until you,” Scott revealed knowing he was putting himself out on the line in opening up about things he hadn’t dared speak of in the waking hours. Taking in a breath, he focused on Logan’s face, memorizing the lines upon it and knowing that in the waking hours he would never have the courage to speak up about what was on his mind. In a great many ways Scott knew he was the perfect soldier, always ready to follow direction and lead his group to battle, but in matters of the heart he’d been awkward in so many ways, a coward who was afraid of what his feelings would mean to his future. With Jean he’d been able to keep that part of himself under control, privy to only the both of them, but on his own, he found himself lost wanting that kind of connection again, yet finding something far greater in Logan. 

“I just know how this will go for us. If I fight it, I realize it will take me under, but giving in to it could prove twice as dangerous,” Scott looked away focusing on the world outside of the walls that surrounded them again. He took in a breath remembering the raw intensity he’d felt in the Danger Room with Logan the other night. However, when he turned around to see the expression on Logan’s face, he knew that his concerns for what was happening with him and Logan weren’t relevant to the situation. He was lost in his dream, far from reality in knowing something had changed, “We aren’t in New York anymore, are we?”

“New York?” Logan repeated with a worried expression on his face, “Slim, why would we be in New York given that we were just training out on the grounds here a short while ago? You really aren’t feeling like yourself, are you?”

“Where is here?” Scott questioned again hearing a thunderous rattling overhead. He looked up watching as the walls began to shake around him. He reached out to touch the dresser, to reach for it to steady himself when there was a primal roar rising out from beyond the room he and Logan were in with one another.

“Victor,” Logan’s voice faded into blackness when Scott was suddenly surrounded by flames. He moved through the stables, struggling to see through the thick smoke that engulfed him. He could hear the sound of bone crushing rage, felt worry consume him when sweat poured down his neck, taking him further away from the school to a place where he was surrounded by madness and chaos. He could remember Logan, could see himself fighting with Logan—engaged in a battle much different than the ones they’d experienced with the X-Men. 

Together they were soldiers, fighting for freedom and peace within their community. Logan had come into his life during a chance meeting over a high stakes poker game. Initially they’d been rivals, having tried to court the same woman until ultimately they’d wound up in each other’s arms. It had been forbidden, completely unorthodox for the time and yet, it felt as right as it had back at the school—back when they had finally given in to temptation with one another.

“Logan!” Scott shouted moving through the flames. He could see the world around him burning down to the ground, wrapping him up in shattered dreams and chaos, guiding him deeper into blood and misery when the war raged around him. 

Closing his eyes Scott tried to force himself to return to the part of the dream where he and Logan were in the meadow with one another. He attempted to bring his thoughts to the moment he lay in the grass with Logan’s arms wrapped around him, promising him forever when the war was over. It had been the best part of the dream for Scott. It was the moment where fantasy had overruled any sense of duty and expectations. It was in that part of the dream that the nightmare evaded him. It was the only time Scott felt at ease when he struggled to force himself to recall how they’d discussed heading off to Canada together in the dream, to share a life away from madness when…

“There you are,” a voice snarled when Scott noticed the ceiling over him starting to crumble. He moved to the side, hoping to avoid the wooden support beam falling down around him when he was met by a pair of familiar, sadistic eyes.

“I’m afraid this is where things end for you,” Victor snarled, seething with rage and madness when his gnarled fingers revealed the razor sharp claws emerging from his fingertips. His face was covered in blood, in the remains of the world he’d taken to hell in his thirst for chaos. He moved forward, quick and animalistic when he pounced towards Scott, “He’s mine!”

“You can’t keep us away from one another!” Scott spoke up defiantly, feeling an ache inside of him, pulling him deeper into the fire with each step he took away from Victor. Searching around the barn, he spotted a shovel beside him. It was made of iron and wood, heavy enough to provide just enough leverage for him to fight back against the madman before him.

“Not so fast,” Victor taunted when Scott lunged towards the shovel. He blocked Scott’s path preventing him from seeking his target, “You aren’t going anywhere.”

“You can’t stop us from leaving. He’s grown beyond you and your madness!” Scott had taunted, refusing to reveal his fear to Victor. “You think you can control him, but you can’t. He’s his own man now.”

“He’s mine. He belongs to me!” Victor snarled slashing at the air in front of Scott. Scott managed to duck and roll onto the straw beneath him and reach for the shovel. In an instant, he sent it upward, slamming it into Victor’s head. It wasn’t enough to take him down, but it left him momentarily stunned, giving Scott just enough leverage to make his way towards the stable doors.

“You can run, but you can’t hide,” Victor seethed from behind Scott. The slamming sound of Victor leaping across the barn indicated that he was close to Scott, moving rapidly in an attempt to prevent Scott from leaving when another voice captured Scott’s attention.

“This is between the two of us Victor. Stay away from him!” Logan roared from the other side of the stables, indicating that Victor and Scott were no longer alone with one another.

“You brought him into this Jimmy,” Victor seized Scott by the back of his neck dragging him up from the ground. He wrapped his fingers around Scott’s neck, squeezing harder with each curl he made around Scott’s throat. Instinctively Scott reached up, struggling to keep Victor from squeezing the breath from his lungs. He writhed against the hold Victor had on him, twisting and kicking in a desperate attempt to keep Victor at bay.

“Put him down!” Logan snarled, bringing his hands down at his sides to reveal his claws. 

It was then that Scott noticed the bone claws in place of the adamantium that had carried over him. In those few seconds with the world fading around him, Scott could see Logan as he was before Stryker, before he had become the man Scott had known at the school. Somehow Scott had gone back in time to a place where things hadn’t been tainted by Stryker’s experiments—to a moment when…

“Say goodbye to your pretty little pet,” Victor’s words came out in a distinct hiss, his fingertips pushing into Scott’s throat. There was a moment of pain followed by warmth when Victor squeezed harder. His nails dug deeper into Scott’s flesh, ripping at Scott’s throat when Logan charged forward advancing upon Victor.

“No!” Scott could hear Logan shout out. The sound shook the walls around them causing Scott to tremble when Victor threw him into the stable wall. He slammed against it with a resounding boom, his body splintering through the wooden foundation out onto the lawn beyond the stables.

“Logan,” Scott coughed feeling smoke in his lungs and blood tearing away the sound from his exposed throat. Reaching up, he felt the warmth carry over his hand, sliding down over his wrist onto the once white shirt he’d been wearing. Panic consumed him when his eyes shifted back towards the barn, to where Logan and Victor were fighting with one another, tearing each other to pieces.

“Someone help…” Scott tried to speak up, to find his voice when another ache carried over his chest. Looking down he noticed the wooden beam that impaled his chest. It pushed up through his rib cage bringing with it an unmistakable ache when he struggled to keep himself together, “Logan…”

The world began to spin around Scott, leaving him disoriented when the fighting continued within the stables. Scott watched in horror as the stables collapsed around Victor and Logan dragging them further into the wreckage. For a moment the world seemed to stop, time was frozen in the darkness until Scott noticed movement from within the broken building. Their fists and furious voices surrounded Scott, drawing out madness when Scott staggered on the grass. With a hand clenched over his chest, he fought to focus on the green, on the warmth the place had once provided him. It had given him such joy, such pleasure from something so simple before the world had erupted around him. Now with his blood pumping out through his veins, soaking his once white shirt, he looked to the sky above, taking in the night that brought forth blood and devastation. A chill surrounded him when he collapsed on the ground. He struggled to find the strength to move, to push forward, but with the blood loss Scott knew it was hopeless. Weakly he turned his head to the side to look over at the remains of the stables one last time. They were surrounded by smoke and fire, pushing up violently into the night and engulfing the world around him.

“Logan,” he coughed in a halfhearted attempt at calling to his lover. His eyelids grew heavy, his mind moving beyond the pain he felt and entering into a state of shock. He felt numbness in his limbs causing his lips to part with a desperate gasp when he heard Logan approaching. He sucked in sharply while pushing his hand onto the ground and struggling to slide himself forward. He managed to pull himself up to a seated position when Logan rushed out towards him.

“Slim,” Logan caught him as he collapsed, squeezing Scott in his arms. Logan looked down to the splintered wooden beam in Scott’s chest, reaching for it in an attempt to do something, but Scott knew he was beyond redemption, “Slim, look at me…”

“Did you get him?” Scott questioned feeling exhaustion and numbness over take him, “Are you finally free?”

“Hold on Slim. I’m going to get you help. Do you hear me?” Logan’s voice surrounded Scott when he closed his eyes imagining the warmth of the sun upon him. He felt Logan’s arms around him, holding him closer, keeping him against Logan’s powerful chest, but deep down Scott knew he would have no choice, but to let go, “Listen to me…”

“This isn’t the end Logan,” Scott coughed using every ounce of his energy to speak up. He forced his eyes open and tipped his head up, turning to the man he loved, “I will find you again.”

“Slim,” Logan’s voice was the last thing he could remember, the very last sound that enveloped him before he’d fallen into blackness, into a place that was far from the world they’d surrounded themselves in.

“Logan,” Scott’s eyes snapped open to reveal the darkness of the room at the museum. He gasped for air, feeling the oxygen rapidly fill his lungs when the cold feel of marble surrounded him. He stretched his fingers out, dipping them into a warm, pool of dampness. It didn’t take long for him to realize it was his own blood after he’d sustained an injury. Taking in a breath, Scott tried to assess the situation, to remember what had brought him to this point in time, but when he remembered his dream he knew there was only one reason for his having been blindsided.

“Victor,” Scott attempted to pull himself up off of the floor, preparing to fight against his attacker when he sensed movement across the room. Lying still, Scott waited, watching behind his visor as he planned his next move, wondering if this time he would learn from the mistakes his dream had revealed to him.

xxxxx

“Where’s Scott?” Logan questioned making his way over to Ororo after the group had made their way down to the cafeteria for lunch.

“He said he was coming down here,” Ororo curled her lip with concern, “but none of the students I’ve spoken with have seen him. He should be here.”

“Something’s wrong,” Logan blurted out scanning the area for any indication of where Scott had gone, “I’m going to look for him.”

“Logan,” Ororo reached out to touch his arm, “Be careful.”

“Keep the students down here and if anyone other than Scott or I comes in,” Logan paused taking in an uneasy breath, “you know what to do.”

Ororo nodded as Logan moved towards the cafeteria’s exit. He made a small movement towards the main gallery when he felt a hand on his arm.

“Hey Logan, what’s up?” Marie questioned brightly.

“Have you seen Cyclops around here?” Logan replied watching her shake her head.

“No, I haven’t seen him,” Marie admitted with a shrug of her shoulders, “Last time I noticed he was with us was when we first got here. Why?”

“Stay here,” Logan warned with a snarl, sensing something in the air that surrounded him.

“I’ve seen him,” Jubilee piped in when she joined Rogue, “He’s over in the area of the museum that’s been closed for renovations. I spoke to him before he went back there…”

“Thank you,” Logan replied when a familiar scent filled the air around him. He tensed up, closing his eyes and finding himself met by flashes of death and violence. Everything was a blur, a series of brief, fleeting images that were reminiscent of his dreams before he’d arrived at the school. Immediately tensing up, Logan found himself overtaken by rage when a name carried over his lips, “Victor.”

“Logan?” Marie questioned touching his arm with her gloved hand.

“Stay here,” Logan snapped, stomping out of the cafeteria in search of the man who had haunted his nightmares. Although he hadn’t been able to make sense of the madness, there was something about the man he’d fought on Liberty Island that kept coming back to him, returning to him at the most inopportune of times.

“Happy birthday Jimmy,” Logan could hear Victor taunt, his voice echoing in the dark corners of Logan’s mind. Closing his eyes Logan could see himself surrounded by fire, lost in chaos with blood and carnage all around him.

“Scott,” Logan mouthed to himself, picking up the pace as he pushed his way into the part of the museum that had been closed off. He weaved through the darkened corridors, going by scent alone when he was caught by another whiff of familiarity.

“You aren’t going to be able to live happily ever after Jimmy—not like this,” Logan could hear Victor’s voice in his head taunting him when he continued to move through the darkness. Trying to follow Scott’s scent Logan weaved through the narrow hallway, quickening his pace until he discovered a room near the end of the corridor. Instinctively he dropped his hands down, releasing his rage and extending his claws when he rounded the corner to discover an oversized oil painting on the wall before him. It was surrounded by an overhead light, but what was on the canvas before Logan had him stunned.

“What the…” Logan blinked a couple of times, feeling himself met by an eerie familiarity when he found himself lost in the likeness of himself and Scott before him. There in the portrait were two men, wrapped up in an embrace that felt completely foreign to the period of the piece, yet in seeing the faces before him, Logan realized it was too eerie to ignore. Moving in for a closer inspection, Logan retracted his claws and reached up to the canvas noticing the blood that was smeared across the face of the man who looked like Scott before him. Underneath the lighting, it gave off a glow, seemingly mirroring Scott’s optic blast within the confines of the gallery. It was brutal and intense, yet breathtaking as Logan closed his eyes feeling himself met by flashes of laughter and Scott’s arms around him when they stood in a grand garden with one another caught up in a moment that didn’t hold any place in their lives at the school.

“Sickening, isn’t it?” Victor’s voice rose up from the shadows. Logan spun around to see his rival before him eyeing Logan with a sadistic grin, “No wonder they put that in the back room here considering that it never should’ve come to fruition in the first place.”

“What have you done to Scott?” Logan’s claws released all over again. A snarl overtook his features, his jaw flexed with rage when he made a bold step towards Victor, “Where is he?”

“I’ve disposed of the little problem just like I did the last time Logan,” Victor taunted, his nails extending into claws when he licked his lips. Logan could see blood covering the side of Victor’s face and in an instant, panic consumed him. Thinking about Scott in the darkness, unaware of Victor’s presence, Logan couldn’t help, but find himself fearing the worst, “You never did learn that your pets don’t bode well for any kind of future Logan. They just don’t seem to last too long without breaking.”

“Who are you to me?” Logan questioned with a snarl when he pushed forward.

“Don’t you remember? I’m the best and worst of you Jimmy and I’ve come to bring you home,” Victor sneered positioning himself in a defensive stance, “You can either come voluntarily or we can do this the hard way. Personally I’m hoping for the hard way given it’s much more interesting.”

“Tell me where Scott is!” Logan sneered charging at Victor with an overwhelming surge of rage. His claws slashed through the air only to be met by Victor’s own fury. Together the two men tore at one another, engaging in a battle that Logan could recall from muscle memory alone. With the force of Victor over him, Logan found himself crashing through a wall, slamming up against a series of sculptures that shattered into pieces at the force of their fight.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Victor taunted with menacing laughter when Logan pulled himself up off of the ground. His chest heaved with anger, his mind caught up in a whirlwind of confusion and chaos when he charged at Victor again ready to tear him to pieces.

“Not even close Bub,” Logan snarled slashing and clawing at Victor, doing his best to take Victor down when their battle continued. 

Violence and fury filled the darkness, sending the two men through the walls of the museum tearing it down around them. With each punch and slash, the exhibits crumbled down, taking with them the blood and outpour of rage with them. Each hit became remarkably more personal, every punch drawing out a memory when Logan found himself recalling pieces of the life he had carried with him before Stryker. He could remember Victor, could recall staying with him and doing what was necessary to get by. He could see them together fighting as partners, taking on the world until Victor had gone too far. He could remember time and time again when he’d tried to keep Victor from unleashing the animal from within. He could feel himself drowning in the madness until…

With a gasp, Logan slammed into a wall again, sent down onto the floor by the force of Victor’s madness. In the seconds that followed, Logan could recall Scott’s face, seeing him in another time and place where he was certain it couldn’t have been Scott at all. He could remember the amusement he’d felt in encountering the young soldier, in having shared taunting jabs with him until finally the two of them had wound up engaging in a forbidden flirtation. It had taken Logan by surprise in having found himself attracted to the beautiful, young soldier, but Scott hadn’t seemed to mind. He’d flirted back, embracing the need until they’d found something deeper between them. Closing his eyes Logan could remember their first kiss, the first time that they’d been together until ultimately Victor had decided that it couldn’t be. He’d stepped forward and taken everything away from Logan. He’d torn Scott away from him, murdering him right in front of Logan to isolate Logan all over again.

“Only it couldn’t be Scott,” a voice inside of Logan’s mind pointed out, causing him to think back to the painting on the wall. It felt so familiar, so real that Logan found himself questioning his sanity when he opened his eyes again. Turning his head to the side, he noticed a hand on the floor beside him, stretched out and lifeless in a pool of blood.

“Scott,” Logan mouthed to himself taking in the scent of his latest lover. He’d been in the room, been on the floor close to where Logan was and as Logan found himself surrounded by memories of a life with a man who had Scott’s face fear consumed him.

“No!” Logan shouted, sliding across the floor to reach for the man when Victor charged at him. He picked Logan up, seizing him by the throat as Logan fought against him.

“You will return to me,” Victor snarled, squeezing at Logan’s throat.

“Never!” Logan roared forcing his claws in underneath Victor’s ribcage, sliding them upward in an attempt at tearing out Victor’s heart.

“You can’t kill me Logan. I’m invincible. I can’t die!” Victor roared with an animalistic rage, his laughter causing the room to shake around them when Logan continued to push his claws upward beneath the bone and muscle within his reach.

“Maybe not, but you sure as hell can bleed,” Logan heard Scott’s voice shout out from across the room. In an instant, Victor’s smile faded, a gulp carrying over him when a red beam spread throughout the room, honing in on Victor. The force in itself was enough to send Victor forward, sending Logan through the remainder of the wall when Scott moved forward, hitting Victor with his powers. His jaw was clenched tightly, face wild with rage when Scott held his glasses in one hand, holding nothing back when the force of his power sent Victor through the floor deep into the basement beneath the museum.

“Scott,” Logan questioned with surprise, seeing a bloodied Scott before him. He watched Scott push his glasses back onto his face, securing them before Scott raised his chin up to meet Logan’s eyes behind the glasses.

“What are you waiting for?” Scott questioned impatiently, “Let’s not give him the opportunity to get away this time.”

“You’re right,” Logan agreed feeling relief carry over him in learning Scott was alright. Without hesitation, he stood up and leapt down into the hole in the floor, listening as Scott followed and they began their hunt for Victor together at long last in the hopes that this time they would be able to put Victor where he belonged once and for all.

xxxxx

“You both should’ve waited for help to arrive,” Ororo chastised both Scott and Logan when they sat outside of Xavier’s office having listened to the same speech from Scott’s mentor verbatim after they’d managed to subdue Victor long enough to have him taken into custody.

“We did what we had to,” Scott rolled his shoulders back and sighed, “We didn’t have time to wait for backup.”

“Even so,” Ororo looked between them again, “You both managed to tear up the museum. Xavier had a hell of a time trying to fix that situation considering that…”

“What?” Logan shrugged his shoulders, “We were just creating art.”

“Art?” she repeated turning to look at him again. “What do you know about art?” 

“Plenty,” Logan muttered before turning to Scott again, “Isn’t that right?”

The smile that teased over the corners of Scott’s lips soon faded when Ororo issued him another disapproving look, “It all turned out for the best. Victor Creed is no longer going to pose a problem to humanity or mutantkind for that matter.”

“That’s what we all believed before, but in having him reemerge…” she paused with uneasiness in her voice.

“We’ll be ready for him,” Scott promised giving her and Logan one last look before turning away, “We always are.”

“What’s gotten into him?” Ororo questioned tipping her head up to eye Logan expectantly.

“Maybe he was inspired by what we did today,” Logan attempted to joke only to see her glare again, “On second thought I’m going to get myself a beer.”

“Logan,” she huffed when he walked away, refusing to indulge the issue a moment longer.

Turning around the corner, Logan entered the kitchen knowing only too well that a beer would be out of the question. However, as he opened the fridge he found himself hoping that someone would break the rules long enough to give him the kind of relief he was seeking out.

“You won’t find what you’re looking for in there,” Scott mouthed catching Logan off guard by the sound of his voice. Immediately Logan stood up taller, spinning around to discover Scott leaning up against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, “It is a school after all.”

“Don’t lecture me,” Logan snarled back at him, finding himself overtaken by uneasiness after the last few days they’d spent avoiding one another.

“Fine, then stay here and sulk, but if you decide you want to hear what I have to say, I’ll be down in the garage with these,” Scott revealed turning around and bending down to pick up the six pack of beer he’d been hiding out in the hallway beside him.

“Where did you get that?” Logan questioned wearily.

“I have my methods,” Scott pulled one of the cans away from the pack and tossed it across the room at Logan, “Besides, I thought maybe now would be a good time for us to talk.”

“Talk,” Logan gave Scott a long once over. His eyes honed in on the stitches Scott had taken in over his hand before sliding up to inspect the bruising over Scott’s cheek after the hit he’d taken from Victor.

“Yeah, you know the thing that we probably won’t do after tonight,” Scott nodded and cleared his throat, “I think we have a few things to say to one another—especially after what we both saw tonight.”

“You mean the painting?” Logan raised a curious brow.

“Yeah,” Scott gulped down hard, “that and other things.” 

“Look about that Scott. I can explain even if some of it is still a bit of a blur. You see when I was younger…” Logan began struggling to find the words to convey what he’d recalled about himself earlier in the evening.

“You were in love with a man who resembled me. The two of you fought together and were intimate with one another,” Scott took a bold step forward, “You were soldiers, but that didn’t stop you from falling in love. You wanted to run away together, but Victor found out about the affair and he murdered him.”

“How did you…?” Logan questioned blankly.

“Because I think it was me,” Scott paused realizing how ridiculous it sounded, “Well, not me exactly, but I was there. I felt it. I felt you.”

“But how…” Logan blinked back at him.

“I don’t know,” Scott divulged quietly, “but you’ve been in my dreams for weeks. You’ve been what I was thinking about and that time, well I’ve seen it clearly—as if I lived it over and over again. I can remember when we first met, when we first kissed and the way it felt to make love to you before…”

Scott stopped himself and reached for Logan’s hand. Setting the remaining cans of beer down on the countertop, Scott focused on Logan’s fingers. He slid their tips over the space between Logan’s fingers, over the place where the claws emerged.

“I remember what they felt like before the adamantium, long before Stryker…” Scott divulged bringing Logan’s hand up over the side of his face in an uncharacteristic move. “I remember the taste, the sensation and the feel of you long before I knew you…”

“But how is that…how is that possible? Scott, it was long before you were born and…” Logan found himself at a loss.

“Because I told you then and I’m saying it to you now, it’s not over. I found you again,” Scott mouthed with an air of determination in his voice.

“But how…” Logan started to question, unable to comprehend what Scott was saying to him.

“I don’t know, but I’m not going to make the same mistake twice Logan. I don’t want to lose you—not after everything else I’ve lost in my life,” Scott cleared his throat and held Logan’s hand harder than before, “Look I’ll be honest after I lost Jean I didn’t know what to think of the world around me. I didn’t want to open myself to the possibility that what I felt for you could be…”

“What?” Logan tensed up in seeing Scott struggling for the words.

“Real,” Scott exhaled sharply. He turned his head away, biting down on his lip before he spoke up again, “I don’t know what the future brings for us this time around, but I think my dreams along with that painting are telling us to explore this—to see where it goes.”

“Scott, you and I both know that…” Logan frowned preparing to argue the point when Scott stepped in closer to him.

“I want you Logan,” Scott mouthed sliding in to kiss Logan like he’d wanted to since the night he’d walked out on him in the Danger Room. Wrapping his arms around Logan’s shoulders, he forced Logan in closer to him, kissing him as if everything in the moment depended on their union. His lips parted, tongue darting out to taste and tease Logan before inviting Logan inside all over again. He felt Logan’s arms slide around his waist, squeezing him in closer as they parted. In a heated whisper Scott spoke up with shakiness in his voice, “I know it’s completely crazy, but…”

“I want you too Slim. I always did,” Logan growled moving in to devour Scott’s lips all over again.

“I know,” Scott murmured wrapping Logan up tighter in an embrace, “maybe a part of me has always known.”

“Then what are we going to do about it?” Logan questioned nipping on Scott’s lower lip as they parted from the kiss.

“We can start by taking the beer upstairs to your room,” Scott suggested with a wiggle of his brow behind his glasses, “I can’t promise you what will happen after that, but I’d like to see where this goes for us.”

“Me too,” Logan agreed when Scott stepped back, reaching for the beer and pulling it in closer to his chest.

“Good, then don’t keep me waiting,” Scott ordered in a firm, authoritative tone before slipping out of the kitchen.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Logan replied to himself before following Scott out of the kitchen. Making his way down the hallway, Logan ran into Marie and exchanged pleasantries with her before making his way to his bedroom. He discovered the door partially open and when he stepped inside he noticed Scott over by the bed staring at the souvenir Logan had brought back from the museum with him. It hung on the wall serving as a reminder of something that both men had been visibly moved by after their encounter with Victor.

“What’s this?” Scott questioned pointing to the painting Logan had secured from the gallery of the two men that resembled Scott and Logan with one another.

“Nostalgia and a reminder of how good things can be as long as we remember what’s important,” Logan replied kicking his bedroom door closed behind him. He moved forward with a pounce, reaching for Scott and claiming him in his arms. Almost immediately Scott spun around frantically kissing Logan as the two men toppled down onto the bed, giving in to lust and instinct all over again without thought or consequence to what the future would bring for them. For now life was about exploring the new opportunities between them that time had ripped away from them again and again.

xxxxx

“Is everything alright Professor?” Ororo questioned entering Xavier’s office to discover him seated behind his desk.

“I believe so Ororo,” he nodded turning his attention to the night beyond where he was seated, “You should rest.”

“I’ve been trying, but with everything that happened,” she rubbed her hands up over her arms, “First with Jean and now with this…”

“I know it’s been a lot to take, but rest assured I do believe things are going to get better,” Charles answered cryptically exchanging a few pleasantries with her before she left him to his thoughts. 

When the door to his office closed behind her exit, Charles focused on the window again thinking about the turn of events that had weighed upon all of them after losing Jean. Things had been chaotic leading them all on a downward spiral until Charles remembered his promise to Jean. He thought of the choice she’d made, to the request she’d made of Charles in her final moments in knowing she was about to leave them. After he’d seen what she’d known about Scott and he’d realized her wish for the man she loved, he’d wanted to make things right. He hadn’t been certain on how to help Scott heal, but after he’d taken a look inside of Logan’s nightmares, seeing things from Logan’s past that Logan’s mind had locked away, he knew he had a way in. At first he hadn’t been sure if the course of action he’d been taking was appropriate. It hadn’t been in his nature to use his powers to invade someone’s thoughts, to read them without their awareness, yet when he’d looked inside of Scott and Logan he knew that they would need a not-so-subtle push.

Reaching for the light on his desk, Charles sensed that all was well with Scott and Logan just as Jean had wanted for them. Knowing that they were together was what she’d requested to put her at ease, to give them the freedom of their union in order to find happiness again. She’d asked Charles to help encourage Scott along, to embrace his desires and find love again with Logan if that was what he so desired. Charles had silently agreed, giving in to Jean’s final request in prompting Scott and Logan to explore their desires with one another. Looking into Scott’s dreams had provided Charles with enough information to help things fall into place, but in seeing the truth in Logan’s subconscious, Charles finally understood what Jean had discovered about the two men in her life. He’d seen what she’d realized early on about Scott and Logan and as promised, Charles worked to fulfill her dying request. 

“Everything will be alright indeed,” Charles mouthed to himself when he looked down to the box of paints and canvas before him. Taking in a breath, he couldn’t help, but smirk finding himself thankful that he too knew a bit about art and the ability to guide others to the right place at the right time. That had been part of his plan when he’d found a way to make sure that both Scott and Logan had taken the trip to the museum with one another, both curious to learn more about their feelings for one another. The art had been strategically placed to provide them with privacy, but Victor Creed’s surprise arrival had worked as a catalyst to open their eyes to the other life that they’d been privy to years earlier. Knowing that Charles realized that perhaps fate had played a hand in things after all given that a little inspiration and a lot of hope could go a long way in matters of the heart. Yes, Jean had certainly made her choice when she’d left them and now Scott and Logan had made theirs as well in being together. At long last balance was restored and Charles anticipated that everything would soon be as it should be for all of them in finally finding the strength to move on with their lives.


End file.
